Unrequited
by Echo Hellfire
Summary: Alan watches Edgar on the beach. Rated M for incesty thoughts...and a "special" chapter. The "special" chapter will be up soon.
1. Alan's POV

**Unrequited**

_Pairing: Alan Frog/ Edgar Frog_

_Disclaimer: I do not own The Lost Boys or the Frog Brothers or Sam. I wish I did but I don't, sadly._

_This was supposed to be a 100_Tales prompt but it got too long. Plus it was originally going to be Edgar with the crush and Alan teasing from the beach but it didn't seem right so I changed it. If I get enough complaints from people, I'll write an Edgar 3 Alan and Alan teasing him._

_(Btw the shop has be moved so the beach can be seen from the counter, for the purposes of this story)_

**~PAGE BREAK~**

It was so fucking hot! Alan sat behind the counter of the insanely hot comic store, sweat trickling down his back. He tugged at the collar of his military-esque shirt. Why hadn't he agreed to close the store and go to the beach with Sam and Edgar? (I mean really, who in their right mind would come into the store to buy comics on one of the hottest days of the year so far? At night, yes, but not when you could melt just by walking through the door.) Edgar had taken a lot of persuading. He was finally convinced by Sam saying that they couldn't be attacked by vampires, half or otherwise, due to the blinding sunlight. Alan had steadfast refused, telling them he'd keep an eye on the store. He had gotten some sceptical looks but they left shortly afterwards.

Sighing heavily, Alan stood and walked to the rack of comics nearest to the door. Maybe there was a breeze, he doubted it but it could happen. Rearranging the comics Sam kept moving, Alan looked at the beach. He knew the real reason behind why he didn't go. He couldn't strip down to his shorts and sit on the beach next to his brother who would be in a similar state of undress. He couldn't watch the muscle stretch and move under the soft-looking flesh of his little brother as he shifted to get more sunlight (Edgar physically couldn't tan but he tried) He couldn't watch as his brother ran around on the sand, sweat sliding down his chest, down his developing abs and disappearing under the waistband of his sho…

Alan shook his head violently, then regretted it when he felt like he would projectile vomit then topple over. He'd had those types of thoughts a lot lately. After the first dirty and inappropriate dream involving Edgar, whipped cream, sprinkles and Alan tied to the bed, he'd taken to sleeping downstairs on the couch and getting changed in the bathroom. Getting changed in the bathroom wasn't for any particular purpose other than not seeing his brother in his boxers…or less. He'd seen the hurt looks on his brother's face when he pulled the spare blanket out of their closet and walked out of the room. He knew Edgar didn't like what Alan was doing but hadn't asked him why he was avoiding him. Alan had also seen the dark circles under Edgar's eyes from the sleep he was obviously losing over this. He shook his head again. He had to take his mind off of it…and him.

He looked up just in time to see the object of his desire fucked up fantasy burst through the surface of the water. Sam was rolling around on the sand, laughing his blonde, fashion victim head off. Tiny droplets of water had sprayed everywhere; girls nearby in the sea shrieked loudly at the sudden soaking even though they were already in the water. But Alan wasn't paying attention to any of that, his eyes were fixed firmly on the beads of seawater sliding down his brother's perfect, hairless chest. His eyes followed the movement of the envied drops of H2O. They could go anywhere they wanted on Edgar and no one pays the slightest attention to them; if Alan did that, he would most likely be beaten, throttled then disowned.

One droplet of water slid past Edgar's belly button and vanished into the waistband of his shorts. Alan's eyes didn't stop there though; they kept gliding down his brother's physique.

Oh god! His eyes stopped on his brother's crotch. The shorts Sam had lent him (The Frogs never went to the beach so they had no need for beach clothes.), which were a bit small to begin with, were _clinging _to his brother's groin. They outlined it for the whole world to see.

Alan felt his mouth go dry; an unbearable heat crawl up his spine, and it had nothing to do with the temperature outside. He quickly tore his eyes off his brother's package and looked up; right into Edgar's face. What he saw made him freeze.

Edgar's eyes locked with his own from across the beach and Boardwalk, his eyes filled with concern. Alan knew that the slightest change in his usually calm, carefree demeanour and his brother would be across the beach and at his side in a second. And in his current state, that would be bad. He quickly snapped his mouth shut, shrugged his shoulders and turned back to the comics he'd been ignoring for a good 10-20 minutes.

He discretely looked up through his fringe (he's let his grow out a bit since the Lost Boys the year before. Not many vampires had come through Santa Carla in the last year. Plus haircuts were expensive and he didn't trust Sam with a pair of scissors.) Edgar was walking towards where he and Sam had left the towels Sam had brought (Again no beach visits, no need for beach visiting equipment).

Again he watched as his baby brother lay down and stretched out on the Superman beach towel. The sun making the water and sweat on his body glisten and mesmerise Alan.

Alan knew his brother would never feel this way about him and now the sun was taunting him.

Stupid Sun.


	2. Edgar's POV

**Unrequited Chapter 2**

_Pairing: Alan Frog/Edgar Frog_

_Disclaimer: I don't own the Lost Boys or the Frog Brothers or Sam. I wish I did but I don't and never will but a girl can dream._

_I'm sorry i haven't updates in ages! There was no excuse! I was just being lazy really. But here is chapter 2!_

**~PAGE BREAK~**

**Edgar's POV**

Being at the beach with Sam was more fun than Edgar was willing to admit. It would have been even better if Alan had been there. Why hadn't the older boy wanted to come? He enjoyed the beach more than Edgar ever would. Hell, Alan looked like he was _meant_ for the beach. Miles of permanently tanned flesh stretched over defined muscle, which moved and stretched beneath the soft looking surface.

Edgar shook his head. He shouldn't be having these thoughts about his own goddamn brother! It was sick. And wrong. But god, when it happened, it felt so right. He remembered waking up after the first decidedly saucy dream involving Alan, chocolate, strawberries and Edgar being tied to the bed, the find his boxers damp and his thighs sticky. He'd felt disgusted but, by god, satisfied for the first time in his teens years.

"Hey."

A hand waved up and down in front of Edgar's face. He blinked and recoiled as if it were a wine bottle full of vampire blood.

"You ok, bud? You seem a little…distant."

Sam chuckled and leaned back on his elbows. He sighed contently.

"Why'd you think Al didn't want to come with us?"

"I dunno, but there has to be a good reason. He wouldn't just…not come."

"Want me to go get you straw, bud? You seem to be grasping for one."

Edgar scowled deeply at his friend, then turned back to stare at the sand at his feet. He'd tried to sound like he knew his brother well enough to answer confidently but, in all honesty, he just didn't know anymore.

Alan had been acting strange recently. He'd stopped sleeping in their room. At first, Edgar thought it could have been he'd gotten tired of only having an old double bed and having to share it with his 9-months-younger brother. But if it bothered him so much, then why had he only responded now? He'd been old enough for it to be uncomfortable for a long time. Edgar shrugged it off; no more awkward jogs to the bathroom before his brother noticed his little "problem".

Then Alan had point blank refused to even _change_ in their room anymore. That was when it all started to seem a bit odd. Edgar had spent many sleepless hours pondering why his brother had gone from carefree and open to more private and shut off behind closed doors. He wanted to ask but he didn't want his brother to feel bad or anything. It was his life and his choice to make.

Edgar had finally decided that Alan just wanted some breathing room that didn't include Edgar. That was a fine and reasonable explanation that Edgar accepted as the only one.

It was only when Edgar caught a glimpse of something that flashed through his brother's eyes that he couldn't identify, did the second possible explanation for Alan's behaviour become apparent (to Edgar anyway).

He knew!

Alan knew about Edgar's feelings and the dreams that stemmed from those feelings (and the reactions those dreams caused). Edgar didn't know how, maybe he'd heard him whimper or moan while in the midst of one of his erotic dreams. Or, maybe, he'd felt his little brother's erection pressing into his thigh with Alan's name on his lips after waking to retrieve a cool glass of water from the kitchen on a particularly hot night. However he found out, he knew and was avoiding Edgar. That had been like a slap in the face and a kick in the nuts.

The dreams had hideously morphed from dangerously sinful and erotically forbidden sexual dreams to nightmares of rejection and hatred and abandonment by the only constant in his life, his big brother.

"Dude!"

"Huh, what?"

Sam gave him an incredulous look.

"Are you ok? You've been staring at that empty beer can for at least 15 minutes. Keep staring and you're gonna burn a hole through it."

"Oh, eh, sorry. Mind wondered, I guess." Edgar felt heat creep up his uncovered back and tickle his ears and cheeks.

Sam laughed good-naturedly.

"It's alright, but. Hey, why don't we go down by the water for a while, huh? Sound good?"

Sam was already standing and brushing sand off of his thighs and arms. Apparently Edgar's choice had been made for him.

"Why not."

Edgar stood and stretched. Who knew staring at beer cans and contemplating your brother's avoidance and hatred could really cramp up the muscles.

As he shook off his legs, Sam pushed him…hard. He landed with an "oof" on the warm, scratchy sand next to the beach towel Sam had given him.

"What the hell, Sam?"

"Race ya!"

With that, Sam took off as if the hounds of Hell from Vampires Everywhere were after him and he had a thick, bloody steak tied to his ass.

"Oh, you're a dead man, Emerson!"

It felt good, feeling like all of his worries and fears were being blown away by the wind whistling past his ears and whipping his hair around. Sam laughed then squeaked when he looked over his shoulder and saw how close the younger Frog was.

"Edgar! I'm sorry! I shouldn't have pushed you! I was kidding!"

"Too late, Sambo. You did it. Now…you must be punished!"

Sam shrieked loudly and picked up speed. At the water's edge, Edgar jumped, meaning to tackle the fashion victim into the ocean. It was as Edgar's hands touched his shoulders that Sam decided to turn left.

Edgar crashed into the water with a yell. The girls standing in the water next to him, shrieked loudly as the water splashed them. Edgar stood quickly, causing more water to spray on the girls beside him. Fat drops of water rolled down his chest and stomach. Sam's obnoxious laughter filled his ears. The idiotic fashion victim lay on the golden sand, rolling side to side, clutching at his ribs as if the laughter was going to split them open.

Edgar was about to start berating him for being an ass and not playing fair when he felt a pair of eyes watching him. He didn't like the feeling of being half naked, soaking wet and having some weirdo staring at his body. He looked up to glare at the person, when he was met with a (pleasant) surprise.

The owner of the dark, wondering eyes was his brother, Alan!

From where Edgar was standing, Alan looked rather flushed; even in the intense heat, then a light red colour slowly creep up his cheeks. Maybe the heat was getting to him. What if he was staring at his brother thinking nasty things about him and his…sexual preference. Then Alan raised his head, and their eyes locked.

Alan looked shocked and worried at being caught staring at Edgar, but that vanished in the blink of an eye. He was back to his indifferent self. He gave a general shrug and turned back to the comics he must have been re-rearranging; it always bugged Alan when Sam rearranged their comics. They were arranged just fine before their little blonde friend had come along.

Edgar shook it off as his big brother zoning out and his eyes just happened to have settled on Edgar's body…with that cute blush…and his mouth hanging open…and his eyes actually moving over Edgar's body…then the look of shock when he looked up and saw he'd been caught out…could he…no! He didn't feel that way! He would never feel that way. He was straight, and even if he was gay, he wouldn't fancy his little brother.

Huffing a sigh of defeat, he lightly nudged Sam with his foot. Sam was lying on the sand, pulling air into his lungs. Apparently Edgar going face first into the ocean was just so hilarious, it required about 10 minutes worth of psychotic laughter.

"Get up, you idiot."

"Wha-what…what did you…call me…Frog?"

"I called you an idiot, accept it and move on."

Sam glared as best he could, which compared to a Frog glare, was pretty weak.

"Alright Frog. I'll let it go, but just this once."

"Oh, I'm so scared. What are you going to do? Give me fashion tips till I walk into the ocean then keep going?"

Sam glared again then lightly whacked Edgar in the arm. He then sat down on the warm towel he had brought. Edgar looked at Sam then the towel, before sighing again (he's been doing that a lot lately) then sitting on the towel. Edgar's mind cast itself back, Edgar tried to resist it but it wouldn't take no for an answer. To the forefront of his mind came that smouldering look in Alan's eyes before fear and embarrassment had taken its place. The way he had been looking at Edgar's body couldn't possibly have been anything other than lust and desire…could it?

Edgar shook his head violently, it was too fucking hot and he was too bloody tired to think anymore about Alan and his little glances. He made up his mind right then and there. He was going to confront Alan and talk to him about it…today!

That decided, he lay back on the hot, sandy, slightly damp towel and relaxed. It was then Sammy decided he didn't like the thought of Edgar relaxing (read: ignoring Sam) so he threw a handful of sand into Edgar's face. While spluttering (he had yawned right as the sand left Sam's hand), he decided he hated Sam and he hated this cursed heat.

Stupid Sun.

**~PAGE BREAK~**

_I do enjoy making chapter 1 and chapter 2 link slightly._

_How was it? Was it worth the wait? (I doubt it to be honest)_

_There will be at least 2 more chapter after this one! The next one will be "special" chapter ;)_


	3. Confrontation

Unrequited Chapter 3

Pairing: Alan Frog/Edgar Frog

Disclaimer: I do not nor will I ever own Lost Boys, any of its sequels or any copyrights. All I own is 2 DVDs and a t-shirt. And I suppose the stories I write based on those films. That is it!

I'm sorry I've abandoned you guys T-T Writer's block has been squishing any ideas I've had This is a little beginning to the "special" chapter The next one SHOULD be up next week. Going on study leave! Whoop! So no excuses this time. Anyway, you've waited long enough. O with my tale…

**~PAGE BREAK~**

~~~Edgar's POV~~~

Edgar rung his hands together.

_God, what am I doing?_

That seemed to be the only thought going through his mind for the last 20 minutes. He had been sitting in the living room, debating whether or not to go through with this. He felt so confident on the beach. He'd been determined to confront Alan about his coldness and avoidance, but when it came to actually _doing_ it, Edgar wasn't so sure. His brother was by no means a weakling, if Edgar pushed something a millimetre too far or asked the wrong question, he might wake up at the Emerson's with nothing but a broken face and an Edgar-shaped hole in the wall.

He was pulled from his musings when he heard the front door open. Oh god, here goes nothing. Edgar suddenly felt a coldness melt through him and he began to feel numb and detached. Alan walked into the living room with a loud sigh, dropped his keys into the dish on the cabinet next to the door, looked up and froze. This was a bad idea. What if he runs? What if he doesn't? Edgar's mind was going a mile a minute. He didn't even realise his mouth opened until it was too late. He said one of the worse things he could have at that moment.

"I saw you watching me."

Alan's eyes clouded over with worry, fear and embarrassment. Then anger exploded into his usually dark, guarded eyes.

"So what now? You hate me right? You think I'm sick and you want me to leave, right? Well fine!"

He turned and stalked out of the room and up the stairs. Edgar sat, stunned, until he heard their (his?) bedroom door slam shut. He quietly stood up and followed his older brother. He pushed down on the handle. It wouldn't budge.

"Alan? Come on Alan, open up." Edgar tried his best to sound non-threatening. He hoped to whatever God was out there that it worked.

"Why? Why should i?" Shit, his "non-threatening" voice didn't seem to be helping.

"Alan, we need to talk?"

"About what? About how I'm sick, and wrong? And should be shot for thinking about these things? For thinking these things about my own goddamn brother?"

From the muffled sounds coming through the bedroom door, Edgar was sure Alan was crying. It broke his heart, to think that his big brother was crying but mostly because it was his fault.

"Al? Al, come on. Open the door and we'll take about it."

"I don't think I can Edgar. I don't think I could handle you hating me or even secretly hating me."

"Al, you don't really think I could hate you, do you?"

"But you know how I really feel about you; most people would have run for the hills by now."

"I'm not most people, Al. now open the door."

There was a quiet sniffle then the sound of his big brother standing up. The clever bastard had been sitting behind the door so he couldn't get in. he made a mental note to berate him about it later. The door slowly opened to a miserable looking Alan. His eyes and nose were ringed red and there were tear trails down his cheeks.

"You really don't hate me?"

"I could never hate you Al."

Alan sniffed loudly. "Really?"

"Really."

Alan seemed please enough with this and stepped out of the way. He moved to sit on the bed. Edgar stood awkwardly in the doorway. He hadn't thought to change when he came in. now he was stood in the doorway of his (their?) bedroom in nothing but tight swimming shorts and a t-shirt, under his brother's scrutinizing watch. Edgar slowly walked over to the bed and sat next to his brother.

_Was it a good idea to confront him? _

_What should I say now? _

_Should I just get changed and go over to Sam's, leave him time to think about stuff? _

_Should I tell him how I feel?_

Edgar was knocked from his musings when Alan decided to speak.

"Did you mean what you said?"

Edgar was thankful that Alan had broken the long silence. There had been a thick silence between them for far too long.

"Said what?"

"That you could never hate me?"

Edgar gave an exasperated sigh. This was starting to bug him but he knew his brother. Even though he didn't care what anyone thought of him, he always seemed to need the reassurance that Edgar would always be there for him. Alan's only real fear was that he would one day be alone in the world, without Edgar.

"Nothing you could ever do could make me hate you."

Alan gave him a sceptical look but let it go. That god awful silence descended once again.

_Should I tell him now?_

_Yes, I should._

_But what if he knocks me through the wall for not telling him sooner?_

_God, why does it have to be so goddamned confusing and complicated?_

Edgar shakily exhaled then opened his mouth to speak but found his mouth had gone completely dry. He closed it then swallowed a few times.

_Here goes nothing…again._

"Alan?"

"Yeah, E?"

"What would you say if I told you that i…" he cleared his throat "if I told you that I urm, that I feel the same way?"

He squeezed his eyes closed, waiting for a fist to make contact with his face or for the door to slam but neither happened. There was an unnerving silence hanging in the air, threatening to suffocate Edgar. He could feel Alan's eyes on him, surveying him, deciding whether or not he was lying.

"…what?"

The tone immediately told Edgar that the wrong word at the wrong time could result in him being hospitalized. He felt like a gazelle being watched by a lion, one wrong move and it was all over.

"I said I feel the same way."

Edgar was off the bed and pressed against the wall in a matter of seconds. He felt winded but he couldn't focus on that at the moment, not when his brother was pressed up against him and his warm breath was hitting Edgar's ear in hot puffs.

_Oh god, here it comes. I'm going through the wall. I should have told him sooner. What if he thinks I knew and just wanted to torture him with it? _

Edgar's thought process stopped when Alan forced him to face him and he saw the mixture of emotions in his eyes. Lust, desire, love, worry, fear, doubt, there even seemed to be a hint of happiness. It was then their lips met in a clash of lips and teeth.


End file.
